To Dream of Stars
by LostintheShuffle
Summary: Chronicling the first to discover the force. Set in the not too distant future and closer than you can believe.
1. Prologue: Assassin?

_Author`s Note: I hope the prologue speaks for itself. My last story took almost nine months to complete, we`ll see where this one goes. Enjoy!_

To Dream of Stars

**Prologue**

The tall one was old and scarred but tough like leather. The other one was young and strong but had the heavy look in his eyes like something had scarred him deeply. They both fingered their guns absently, staring out the window of the elevator as it rose over the city.

"What`d you say your name was again?" the man in the middle said.

The tall one looked over, "Jacob. And that's Charlie but he don`t say much."

"A pleasure," said the man in the middle.

"Didn`t catch yers," said Jacob.

"Sam. How bout these handcuffs? Bit tight," the man in the middle said, shifting his hands around.

"Can`t do it. Orders. You`ll get em off at the top."

There was a stretch of silence while Sam looked out the glass. The dusty, orange disk of a sun was just rising over the horizon as the elevator rose higher, bringing the city, in all its glory, into view. Soot smoke from camp fires drifted up over shattered remains of skyscrapers and the white marble pillars from destroyed municipal buildings stuck up like the bleached bones of the desert dead. Down towards the docks the ocean cut a crisp, clear line against the harsh gray of the city. To the east of the downtown area was a great hump of earth, its ridge adorned with a few solitary structures.

"Them are the foothills to the Cascades," said Jacob, noticing Sam`s gaze. "Them buildings that still stand, they be Mack`s Eyes. They tell us who be coming or who be going. Like you." A bit of curiosity in his voice.

"Like me," Sam agreed.

Jacob swung his gun to his shoulder and turned to face Sam. "We here ya came from across the water."

"I did."

"From the Peninsula."

"I did."

"Are you one of them?"

"One of who?"

"Hey! We ain`t stupid. We still got the juice flowing here. We talk to other cities and here stuff. Besides," and his voice grew a little quieter, "I`ve been to the Wall. Even went in a half-day`s walk past it."

Most had never been to the Wall much less entered the forest. Sam looked up at James in a new light. "One of them?" he finally said. "No. That is a privilege I did not have. I only lived with one of the tribes for a short while."

Charlie spoke up for the first time, "Is it beautiful? As they say?" His voice was a whisper, at odds with his physical presence.

To some questions there are no answers only short lies to cover up immense feelings. "It is, more than I can say," said Sam simply.

James spoke up. "We don`t like it here you know. Most don`t. I`m from a small farming town back East. A town that's probably gone by now."

"What was the name, maybe I know it," asked Sam.

Jacob told him but he didn`t know it. But he knew it`s like, had passed through many towns that sat a stone`s throw from the cracked asphalt of roads, where small fields of wheat struggled to grow. There was a dying feeling in those towns as he walked through them and saw one or two lamps in houses surrounded by dark windows in buildings abandoned. Yes, he well knew it`s like.

Jacob continued, "Charlie`s from an island t`the North-west, but ahh, that`s his story. But ya know, we couldn`t make it alone any more, had t`come here. I bet most`d tell ya the same sob story." It`s more words than he has spoken all week, but James feels, what, some strange familiarity with this stranger?

To Sam it is no surprise to hear those thoughts. The world has changed much during his time with the tribes. Even in the smaller towns closer to the coast, where they fish from polluted waters in wooden dinghies- there is a feeling of unease in the air. Here, in the city he has seen the firm and infirm alike scowl silently at the black and gray clouds on the horizon. They look over their shoulders at empty streets and empty alleys and wonder why they still feel pursued.

They were nearing the top when James broke the silence, "Did`ja see it when the buildings fell?"

"No," said Sam, "But I saw the dust cloud from the Peninsula. We thought there was a battle being fought."

"No," laughed James in a laugh that was not a laugh but a sad wish. "That`d been easier. The government? Yeah, at least we`d have order. But no, the earthquake came and left, leaving us with Mack.

"Charlie," said James, "show him your hands. If you`re wondering why this here lone scraper still stands, Charlie can tell ya."

Charlie holds his hands out. Each palm has a large, ugly scar running across it. His voice was again a low, halting whisper, each word a single tower of breath. "This scraper is tall but strong. Was up top watching the place when the quake hit. It bends, it leans, but doesn`t fall. Juice all gone, can`t call out. Fires up all over City. No moon, but in the dark light, many, many fires. Stuck up here, no food, no water. Open elevator doors, see cables running down into dark. Shaft is silent, dark. Use gloves and slide down cables. Takes whole day. Whole day of dark. Can`t use hands for a month."

"Yeah," said James as if summing up the whole experience. "He was a lucky one. Most of us had to digout from rubble. Not too pretty of a time. Anyway, we`re here. Nice to meet ya. Sorry bout the cuffs."

"You too," said Sam. Charlie said nothing.

The sun winked out as they slid up into the top floor. The doors opened into a single, large circular room of marble. There were no walls, merely windows that let in the harsh light of morning. There was a terrace on one side, a platform that jutted out into the air. As Sam stood there he noticed that the whole room was slowly turning, that the whole top of the building was pivoting to reveal a complete panorama of the city. A giant of man, bald and wearing a pin-striped suit greeted the three of them.

"Lo, gents. That`s fine boys, I`ll take that pack. Let him out of the cuffs." The bald man spoke with a dangerous lilt like a shark that learned to speak .James took off the cuffs and gave the man the pack he had been carrying.

"James! I see you`ve brought me a fine guest.

The two guards turned towards the terrace where the smooth, silky voice had come from. The man that walked into the room was wearing a purple suit with black, slicked-back hair; a consummate business man were it not for the glint of his reptilian eyes that spoke of blood in the dark. But he had a sharp nose and a gold watch and that put most people at ease. "What have you been telling him, my most trusted James?"

"Nothing, Mack, Sir! Only this and that, you know?" stammered James, "But we found him down by the docks, right where you said."

The man who was Mack smiled from ear to ear. "Ahh, this and that, this and that. I understand. Thank you James. You two may go." He took the pack from the bald man. "Oh, and Von, do take care of that matter we talked about."

Von, the bald man, smiled. "Certainly," and he put his arms around the two guards as they entered the elevator. The door closed on them.

"So you`re Mack?" said Sam.

The man threw his arms wide. "Hah! Mack the Eye, Mack the Head, Mack of the Strong Arm. All of them. And Mack the Knife." A sharp thing of metal appeared in his hand and he hurled it at Sam. It was a blur and Sam just managed to snag its hilt as it flew past. It nicked his hand as he gripped it.

Mack laughed and said "Impressive! Now if you were here to kill me, well, now you have the means." He let the assumption hang in the air with a shrug of his hands.

"I am no assassin," said Sam.

"So you say, my son, so you say. But come, a drink?"

"Water."

"Water? Kill yourself drinking the city`s water. Have some Aleutian Brandy. Puts the beer of your Olympics to shame."

"Does it?"

"Come now Sam, we have enough traders from the Zone that I know what they dress like. You`re from the Peninsula. It`s a fact. Come with me outside." Mack picked up the pack and together they walked outside to stand at the metal railing.

"My city," said Mack, spreading his hand over the sprawling landscape. "I know, I know. Not much eh? But it once was so much more."

Sam spoke darkly, "Was is it so much better when you poured your garbage into the oceans and polluted the skies with your factories?"

Mack chuckled. "Progress, my boy, it comes at a price. We don`t have the machines of the past, we can`t simply make it disappear."

"There are always simpler options," added Sam. But he felt like he was wasting his breath, arguing with naught but empty air.

Mack raised a glass with blue liquid in a toast to the crumbling scenery of the city. "I`ve heard that particular sermon from others. You think his name hasn`t reached my ears? Sal the Just, Sal the Monk, Sal and his big plan? The tribes send their people to my city to recruit, it is quite the annoyance."

"Enough to kill them?"

"Hah! My boy, what do you know of zealots? They have brainwashed you with their religious might."

Sam kept his tongue, knowing it would do no good to explain all he had seen.

"Look at us, already drawing swords. It has been too long since I had a good conversation. Do you speak the Scholar tongue, my boy?" Mack asked.

Sam nodded. Mack began again in that tongue, a strange, sweeping dialect filled with lost words from a lost age.

"Dost thou know of the ancient tale called Hamlet?"

"Yes, it has ever been a favorite of mine."

"Thyne own words are brim with secrets, of dire threats from primitive sects and yet thou perceive nothing?"

"Then enlighten me."

"Thou speakest of Sal the Just, the noble chief of your tribes who truly has designs on this land that mine two feet do stand upon."

"I sayest truly, they are not mine tribe, though I do be counted as a friend to him.

"But thou would say he be noble?"

"I do. I did. A most noble man of moral standing."

"Then thou knowest nothing of the man nor his history!"

"I claim not, Mack of the Tall Tower. I claim his actions which speak with more force than a paltry sum of lies."

"Come my friend, hast thou forgotten the old tongue so readily? Those that speak it do hold to a higher code. I would not let, even in jest, my words to hang in the muck of lies."

"Thou speakest true. But what is the truth but a lie believed to be true?"

"This debate goes far from mine point and achieves no honor for both our hearts."

"Pray tell me, my good Mack, if truth be the soul of thyne words, did you send that man to kill the two guards?"

"Useless things they were, not wholly dedicated to the purity of my mission. But let it not be a cloud upon your brow. They are nothing. Hearken to this though. Thyne most noblest chief? I did mention it."

"Aye, and a tale of most unheartening woe, being Hamlet. Your foe?"

"Yes and no. A great foe was this tale, for in it reflected mine own struggle."

"Surely you cannot mean that most famous utterance? To be or not to be?"

"The very same, my cultured fellow. In these words are mine divergence; mine doom, my destiny, my fate. You see, I chose to be."

"Ahh, clearly do I perceive that mine own much maligned chief is not to be. Though if being is not being then I am truly lost."

"You are correct. Thyne chief chose not to be."

"Mine chief?"

"Mine brother."

"Clearly this line of blood was not made so clear to me. But I see."

"Dost thou? Hearken closely then: It is plain as the sound of jingling coins that thou comest as an assassin at the behest of my brother. And if not in deed then as a soothsayer of ominous portents. But be warned, my smooth friend, I offer no sublime sanctuary, that you could raise a dagger in show, in name and escape. So hear my tale and judge."

Here Mack spoke again in the common tongue. His memories were deep, and though the old language offered formality and a play of wit, it could not handle the blunt description of emotion.

"To be or not to be. Uhg, it sounds so trivial in this tongue, you know? We were 13, my brother and I, when we read the bard. At 14 our father was killed. He was a merchant trader on the south side, a good man and fair in prices. But his competitor was shrewd and offered lower prices. For inferior goods, you see? At every turn our father was undercut. He lost his business because he refused to lower prices, refused lower quality and lower reputation. I say he was killed but in fact his own hand squeezed the trigger. Now I ask you, Sam who hails from the land of pure intentions, who is to blame?"

Sam sighed, already sure how this was going to play out. But he answered anyway, "You live by the rules you make. You`re father should`ve adapted to changing conditions."

Mack shook his head. "Then you would bear the slings and arrows of an outrageous fortune, am I right? Yes, that is what my brother said and he fled across the ocean to hide in the wilderness. "Capitalism," he said, "is the way of the world. You reap what you sow." But those words come to me: to be- to take up arms against a sea of troubles. So I did- with guns and a gang of loyal thugs. I killed my father`s competitor, took over the business and climbed up from there. You see me now; King of a broken city, but oh the heyday, oh the time when the City ran red with blood and green with money."

His face was that of an old warrior who remembers stepping on the skulls of enemies as arrows whip past; a certain feeling of being truly alive only when others are dying.

"I think you`ve judged your brother wrong," said Sam.

Mack turned away in disgust. "He was coward. And now he hides in a forest men can never go."

"If you can walk you can go."

"Ahh, tis true but a city will never be built there and what are we but animals without machines to build. But enough. Give me your message, for I know you have one."

Sam looked out past the balcony, at the crippled city that fought to survive. What would the people do, he wondered, if they could lift their heads without fearing a bullet? He looked towards the ocean, over the strait at the white, gleaming mountains that rose from the Peninsula. Godspeed, he thought to Sal, godspeed. Then he turned away.

Sam spoke slowly and with grave emotion. "Leave this city. Be gone by dawn tomorrow and never return."

Mack was not surprised. "Who stands behind this? My brother?"

"Your brother, yes, but there is a bigger hand than his on you now Mack."

"Who? The government? They are a joke and even they can`t reach me here on the coast."

Sam rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to expose the bicep of his arm. There was a small tattoo there, a black circle with a small dot in the middle. "The Star-Treaders," he said, the words flat and without emotion.

"What!" blurted Mack. "They are a ghost of a ghost. Better to say the Federation was parked in space over our planet. I might have believed you."

"It does not matter if you believe me. That is the message."

"Cmon kid, have you ever seen a space-ship in your lifetime? It's a dead tech, no one remembers how. Look, a lot of people want to kill me. Don`t be a casualty for a cause that's pointless. For keeping me entertained for an hour I`ll let you go. What`d ya say?"

Sam turned and put both hands on the rail. He spoke to the air, to the morning sun that streaked across glass and steel canyons, to the huddled mass of people that woke and went out on a day that promised no new glories.

"On the beach near where I lived, Sal once pointed out the stars overhead. "Look Sam," he said to me, "look at those stars, so scattered, so separate. That is our people." And I remember he touched his chest. Our people. Humanity, he meant. I thought he was lost in some old memory but he spoke up over the crash of waves, "So fragmented. But we don`t have to be. People fight for us out there, Sam, on those stars. They fight as we must do." I looked at him and I remember the expression on his face. It was almost….fury, like he was a million miles away fighting among the stars. And I asked him how he could be so certain? "Because I have been there," he answered. And I believed him."

Mack shook his head, "Listen, my brother may be a coward but he was always a great speaker. I would doubt anything he says."

"Sal told me you would not believe the message. Nonetheless, I understand."

"Look, Sam, all kidding aside. Last chance, walk away. Go down to the boats and run back to the woods and tell my brother his time is coming."

When Sam did not reply Mack grabbed the pack and walked inside. "Stupid kid," he muttered, "Let`s see what he was carrying." He rummaged around in the dirty pack, pulling out bits of food and clothing. At the bottom was a solid, gray box. He took it out and laid it on the table. While he was looking at it he took out a radio and pushed a button. "Von, come up. I got another job for you. Von? Damn, must be interference."

Sam took one last look over the city and sighed. He walked inside and sat down on a sofa. The room was still revolving and he figured he had about a minute before the sun came around again.

"What is this? If it`s valuable maybe I`ll lock you up someplace nice." Mack said this off hand, already thinking about other things, his mind on the vicious necessities of running an empire.

Sam spoke softly, once again in the Scholar`s Tongue. "I was ever more partial to a different verse than thyne being and not being. It always struck me as but two sides of the same coin."

"Oh?" said Mack fiddling with the box. "What be so profane to replace mine own stately pronouncement?"

Sam read off the small parchment in his memory, "To die, to sleep- to sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there`s the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come?"

And he stood, pulling a small black object from the small of his back. "That box? Hydrogen fuel cells coupled with a primed injection of charged neutrinos. It is incalculably valuable."

"A bomb!" And Mack jumped back, starting to run for the elevator.

The top of tower at last revolved into the light and the still dusty rays of the morning sun coated both of them in its orange glow. "No," said Sam, "redemption."

James and Charlie were stepping into a small boat at the very end of the docks, where the piers were rotten and nobody asked questions. James had a streak of red on his sleeve and was just pushing off into calm waters when he heard the explosion. He looked up at the towering needle of a skyscraper. All the windows had blown out and a single tongue of flame escaped the open door of the terrace. So slowly, by inches, the great round saucer tipped off its base. It pivoted towards the ground before it was caught by the steel elevator cables.

"Very strong," pointed out Charlie.

But they were not and they snapped and the office of the tyrant, his casket and funeral pyre, plummeted down to smash into the streets below. It raised such a plume of dust that half the city was obscured from the water and shafts of sunlight mingled in the cloud.

"I never did like it here," muttered James. Neither noticed, as they rowed farther into the cold, dark ocean that not a single light showed across the water and all sounds of machinery had ceased to echo out of the city


	2. To Dream of Stars

_Author`s Note: I know, its long. But I wasn`t sure which was better- breaking it up into two chapters or keeping it together for the feel of it. Anyway I hope you read it to the end. Enjoy! _

**Chapter 1**

He was 9 years old when he dreamed of the stars. It had been after dinner when the estate had grown quiet and he could lose his brother and steal quietly out across the plateau. There were no farms in the high steppe and though he was tired from the day`s labor his feet carried him fast under the dark sky. He stopped to lie outstretched in a bowl of whispering grass, filled to the brim with stars.

The earth was warm from the day`s heat and a cool wind blew gently across his cheeks. He lay not thinking for a long while, letting the wide world of twinkling lights fill his head. From time to time he turned his head towards home. The spire of the tallest tower was just visible above the dark-green horizon as a beacon of orange light. There, all alone, he liked to imagine he could somehow fall into the stars and be born far away into the spaces between.

Later he would know it for what it was, but then, as he lay under the stars, a waking dream of certainty came to him that one day he would be cresting the horizon of some blue planet and soaring outward into an unknown galaxy. He shook his head then and the world was as it always was, that strange vision already fading. Whatever it was it made it hard to turn his steps homeward.

On the way back through the tall grass a star detached itself from the night sky and came roaring down overhead. He stared wide-eyed in wonder as the rocket ship soared past, touching down near the distant manor. Then all was quiet again and he could hear his heart beat and there seemed to be a strange quality to the night, something different with the arrival of the strange ship. He could not name it, being so young and not experienced to the things that disrupt a life. It was a moment when behind him was the straight road of a normal life and before him stretched an infinite number of possibilities, each a short but twisted avenue of chance. Ahead were strange years, mistakes and earnest yearnings, missteps that led down the jaded roads of experience. There were nights and days of anger and unfortunate, willful sins committed. Though, and it is rare, there would be a few bright mornings of clear clarity streaked with the red of dawn. It would be harsh and the freedom he thought lay in future would not be found in the long journey. But he did not know that then, though later he would learn it.

* * *

He was 22 when he came home again. They had given him a drop-shuttle from orbit and as the ship broke through white, puffy clouds the estate of his father was spread out before him. The sight of the green ocean of grass and the sharp towers of the manor brought a pang of longing for his childhood.

The shuttle came to a rest on a small hill a short distance from the estate and when the door hissed open an old man with wild, scraggly white hair was there with two horses. They stood apart for a second, assessing one another. The old man nodded with a smile and there was still friendship there. They hugged and the old man slapped the young one on the back.

"Back in one piece, eh Luke?" said the old man, peering through wire-rimmed glasses.

"Duncan," Luke said grinning and hefting his canvas bag, "it`s good to see you."

"C`mon Lad, hop up. I know some folks who are mightily excited to see ya."

Luke strapped his bag to the horse and climbed up. They started down the dirt path that ran straight towards the manor that stuck up above the grass. They rode in silence for awhile. Luke took in the sights gladly, seeing everywhere the memories of his youth. Finally he sighed and rode close to Duncan.

"How did she die? Tell me it was quick."

Duncan`s shoulders slumped for a moment. He turned to Luke, "Aye, it was quick lad. A boar took her through the leg and there was naught I could do but sit there and hold her hand. She shouldn`t have been walking alone during the hunt but you know her mind. Always was one to ignore our warnings."

"Yes, she was." His voice is distant as he looks over the plains. "Duncan, I`m sorry I wasn`t there."

"Lad, you`ve your own life, she knew that. Don`t beat yourself up." They crossed over a winding creek and the manor was suddenly in full view. "Look! Someone`s waiting for you."

The manor was an elegant affair; tan and filled with many windows and jutting towers. It resembled a castle more than a house. The main residence was a large building and on either side arcing walkways led to round towers. There was a single thin tower that rose up from the main building, an opening far up top that served as a lookout post. In the archway of the entrance stood a young woman in white with flowing blonde hair.

The two riders dismounted in the open plaza and unpacked their things. Luke kept his back to the woman, hiding a smile. When he turned there was a frown on her beautiful face and her arms were crossed. They walked towards her.

"Jenny," Luke called out, "you`ve grown respectably."

"Respectably? I see your manners are still that of a brutish boy." But a smile fought through the frown and she ran the last few steps to throw her arms around the young man. He picked her up and swung her around and she laughed like daisies shine, innocent and happy.

"Jenny, let an old man see his son." A man hobbled by age stepped slowly out of the doorway and made way with his cane to where his son stood. His gray hair was short and neat, his frame still powerful from a life of work, but his steps so halting that Luke hurt to see his father crippled so. But Luke smiled and gave his dad a careful hug. He smelled of grass and the fresh earth.

His father looked up into his son`s face and said "What adventures have you had boy?"

Luke ventured an answer that could fill the gap of so many years, "Some good ones, pop, some good ones and few bad ones."

"Well there wouldn`t be the good without the bad, would there. I want to hear it all."

"So do I!" chimed Jenny, pressing around the group.

"Ahh, but where are my manners?" said the father, "the tales can wait. Come on inside."

The party walked out of the bright sunshine into the shade of the inner foyer. Everything was open and cheery; large windows let in the light while plants of vibrant colors pleased the eye. There was a large stained-glass window depicting the scene of harvest on the far wall. Jenny took Luke`s bag saying "I`ll go get some food. You must be starving."

The two older men took seats next to an open window. Luke looked around. "Is my brother around?"

"He`s in the greenhouse. He said he`d be done right away," said Duncan.

"Hey, I`ll go surprise him. "And Luke set off at a run towards the greenhouse which lay connected by a covered walkway from the main house. He opened the door to the glass structure and was immediately hit by the exotic smells of vegetation. "Ben!" he yelled into the hot air.

There was no answer and so he wandered down the rows of red and yellow flowers, vine covered trellises, potted leafy stalks with colorful tracings of sappy veins and even a few that swayed almost imperceptibly as he passed. At the back he found his brother perched over a work table, a knife in hand cutting into the green stalk of a plant. Next to him and was a small child staring intently at the man`s work. "Ben," Luke yelled loudly.

His brother turned around. They had always been opposites and it showed even in appearance. His brother was thin of frame but sinewy and had short black hair. His face was honest if slightly pinched. "Luke," he said simply.

"Ben, it`s good to see you. C`mon, give me a hug. And who`s this?" he said indicating the child.

Ben held out his hand instead. There was no smile on his face. "That`s my son, David."

Luke raised his eyebrows, "A son? Congratulations! But what`s the matter Ben? Aren`t you happy to see me."

Ben put the knife down and rested his hands behind him on the desk. "So the soldier returns and expects a hero`s welcome. The prodigal son, a brother who deserts his family to pursue selfish dreams. What welcome do you want from me brother? What should I say? "Thanks for leaving the farm work to me?" You were so incredibly noble to stay away when our crops failed and mother died and father had a stroke that left him crippled. Where were you when we needed you then? Did you think about that when you were piloting space ships or drinking in bars on strange planets?"

"Ben I-" said Luke, holding a hand up trying to forestall the accusations.

Ben interrupted him. "Yes, I know it was your right to leave. But you also had a responsibility to your family, to me. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I too wanted to leave, to see that stars or least see a new horizon? No, you didn`t. Just left one night when the opportunity was there. Sure you see us now when things have stabilized but, dammit, where were you when we need you!" He shouted the last words, knuckles white from gripping the wood hard.

Luke didn`t expect this welcome. He remembered the laughing face of his brother when they had been younger and chased the slinking forms of rabbits through the grass. "I wrote you letters, for a time at least."

"Yes," said Ben, "and Jenny too. And that hurts more Luke. You didn`t see her cry at night. Didn`t you know how she felt?"

"Ben, I had to get away from this place. You don`t know how badly I had to see what was out there."

"And? Is it all so glorious that this small place doesn`t mean a handful of beans to you?"

"You`re my family. Of course I care!"

"Then why weren`t you there when she died?" he yelled.

Jenny came up behind them in the silence of the accusation. She stared at the two brothers, at what seemed the distance of miles between them. She put a finger to Link`s lips, rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a hug. The two brothers looked at Jenny and she gave them a sad smile only a woman can give. Then she went to Ben`s side and grasped his hand, weaving her fingers through his. With her other hand she pulled David to her side.

"There are some things that can be forgotten and there are some that cannot." She spoke to both of them and to no one. She looked at Luke, "I`m glad you`re back, truly I am."

Ben rubbed her forearm with his other hand and looked at his brother with cool eyes. "I married her five years ago brother, after you stopped writing."

Luke sighed and looked out through the glass. "I`m sorry," he said and turned to leave.

* * *

The funeral was held that evening as the sunset left streaks of gold across the sky. They buried her on a hill overlooking the plains. A small stone marker was put above her resting place and an epitaph was inscribed: "_A loving mother, a joyous wife, an independent heart_." The father sat on a wooden seat with Duncan at his side playing a tune on his flute. Ben and Jenny stood together to one side with David sitting on the ground at their feet.

Luke knelt at her grave and fingered the wild grass. He didn`t have any tears, only a few memories of a woman telling him often to seek his own path. What had that led to, he wondered? Things didn`t seem to be for the better because he had gone into the wide galaxy. The few bright moments of clarity over the last few years seemed petty now under these brooding thoughts and sad scenes.

The last few notes of the flute faded as twilight darkened and the forms of the mourners became mere shadows of the night.

* * *

A few days passed in an awkward dance of reunion. Luke`s father spent most of the time in the chair in front of the window and it seemed, at least from Luke`s perspective, that a great part of his father had died with his wife. Duncan, ever the loyal servant, made sure his father never wanted for comfort. A few times Luke passed Duncan`s workshop he could see a great mass of metal and wires, an invention that surely must be a crackpot dream. Ben spent most of time far off in the fields watching over the cultivation of his genetic crops. His wife did her best to mend the wound between her husband and his brother by showing Luke around the estate and pointing out the new additions. She took him to her home village to south and they picnicked next to a lake that fed the whole region with its water. At first Luke was distant, perhaps unwilling to unbend. But Jenny was ever sunny and quick to smile and so he found time to make a joke or talk of the old times.

In the afternoons Luke borrowed the family`s motorcycle and rode far out until the plains gave way to the dusty desert. There he would dismount and go hunting in the shallow canyons for wild boar, hoping that he would catch his mother`s killer. On the third day, as the sun sloped towards the horizon he shot a boar next to a small water hole. He dragged it`s carcass back to the bike and zoomed home.

Back at the manor he went looking for Duncan, hoping he would help him skin and prepare it. He found him in his workshop, banging away on something huge covered by a canvas tent.

"Duncan!" he shouted over the din, "tell me you`re not building another matter converter!"

Duncan emerged from beneath the canvas, his face covered by a metal shield. He lifted it up and smiled. "Luke, just the man I wanted to see! C'mon over! No, no, I gave up on that idea years ago after I blew a hole in the wall there. No, this is something special, something beautiful." He put a hand on the sheet and drew it back with a grand gesture.

There are some things that are beautiful because they have in them some kernel of humanity. There are others that are inhuman but elegant because they are everything we are not. This was that and more.

It`s lines were sleek and muscular. The exposed engine was compact but powerful. Two thin wings were folded upward, but they were pointed and promised the turning of hawk. It`s nose was short and under it protruded two barrels of matte black.

"You didn`t!" exclaimed Luke.

"I did," said Duncan, full of pride. "You remember when that ship crashed down when you were but a lad? Well I salvaged her and been working on it in secret for a few years."

"But Duncan! A class 6 patrol ship? You could get in a lot of trouble if they found out?"

"Who`s gonna tell them? One of their own?"

"No, I never meant that, my old friend. It`s just that…well, look at it! It`s beautiful! A C-6 is sleek, sure, but this is something else! I mean you got turrets, intake-fed cooling vents, and, well, what is that?" Luke was pointing into the open manifold of the engine where a blue light pulsed.

"Ahh, that, Luke, is my life`s work. A dream I had when I was but a lowly engineer. Took me a long time but I think I got all the kinks worked out."

"What does it do?" asked Luke.

"Let me have a few secrets. You`ll find out in time, when I test it. But hey, let me show you one other thing." And they moved over to a small table where many small electronic components and worked leather lay scatter around.

Duncan picked up a short tube and handed it to Luke. "Feel how light that is? Only four pounds!"

Luke held in his hands. The tube was medal and had a few dials and buttons on one end. The other was wrapped in leather. "I give up? Is it a weapon?"

Duncan laughed, "A weapon? No, no, no. No range. You see some farmers up North had a cave-in in the hills over their village. They found some unusual stuff there that I-"

But he was interrupted by a call to dinner. Jenny had found the boar and prepared it herself. Together the two of them stepped out into the hall and made their way to the dining room.

* * *

"I`m sorry Ben couldn`t be here. He sent a message from the neighboring village. Apparently one of the seeders broke down and he went to help fix it. He`ll be back tomorrow morning." Jenny was mad at Ben for staying away. She couldn`t understand the animosity. They were blood, why couldn`t they reconcile? She shook her head and cut up the meat.

After chewing a few small pieces of meat Luke`s father spoke up in the quiet silence of the large room. "Son. Though I am old I am not without worry. For memory of my wife I have waited these three days to forebear discussing these matters. But they must be brought up. What news of the war?"

Luke knew it would come up. His home was remote, a mere colonial planet on the far fringes of the known galaxy. His people were often rude, country-styled and quick to dismiss the trapping of other civilizations. They wanted nothing but a good, slow life. But they were not stupid and news spreads even where it is not wanted.

"It grows larger, dad. Everyday a new ship is built, a new man is recruited and their faith spreads. I saw how they fight and it will not be easy to defeat them. Right now the Federation has confined the battle to a few planets. But it will spread. And that is not idle talk."

"These people, this planet I`ve heard of, their faith must be very strong?" This from Jenny who spoke up quickly.

Luke looked over at her. "We don`t know much about it but I`ve seen ships refuse surrender and that must take a very strong will to do that. We have intel that their religious center is located on that planet but we don`t know where. It`s like a needle in a haystack, you know? And we`re handicapped by the civilian governments of these planets. They don`t see the necessity of what we need to do."

"And yet maybe they think you don`t see the necessity of what they do," said Duncan, wiping sauce off his chin.

Luke`s father sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a time. "I remember stories my dad told me, of how the colonists spread in ships, leap-frogging from planet to planet, everyone having different ideas about where home was. Can you imagine that? I find it very easy believe those people will fight with all the strength they have to keep their independence."

Luke dropped his fork on the plate, "Dad! They have independence. They have freedom. The Federation gives everyone the same right."

"I know, son, I know. It`s just that some people have different ideas about what freedom should be. Anyway, I know I will not live to see the tides of war come to my door-step. But you and Ben will and I hope you will make the right plans."

There was talk after that but it was only soft murmuring next to the purple and orange afterglow of the sunset visible through the large bay window.

* * *

Later that night Luke was restless and paced the halls unable to get the talk of war out of his head. His family just couldn`t see the truth! They hadn`t been there when the ships exploded in space and the small bodies of his friends and comrades floated by like chunks of meteor. How could they talk of rationalizing when they hadn`t seen what he had seen?

He paced and paced, feeling very trapped. He climbed the stairs of the tallest tower, the spire of stone that rose about the manor. The steps were many and his anger was vented when he reached the top. It was a simple, small room with a stone balcony that jutted out from the spire. One could sit on the very edge and see for miles over the grass. He put his feet over the lip and leaned back against the outer wall.

The moon was bright and every once in a while a gust of wind swept over the grass. There were waves out there and they were peaceful. "I never should have come back," he said aloud, looking up at the sparking stars.

"Nonsense," said a voice behind him, "I never would`ve seen you grow up."

Luke turned and there was Jenny in a blue gown of silk with her hair bundled up in a bun. She sat down next to him and let her legs hang, kicking them a little. "Are we that terrible?"

"Never," said Luke. "It is only that I have changed so much. Or maybe this world has changed and there is no place here for me. I don`t know."

Jenny felt the hurt and loss in his voice and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know, I used to write you love letters and then burn them. They were silly things, full of things I didn`t understand, things I thought love was. I used to watch you race through our village and when my uncle brought me over here I snuck out to spy on you many nights. I always wondered where you went on those nights."

Luke laughed a bit. "You saw that? I thought nobody knew. It was the stars. I`ve always loved them. I used to lie in the grass and dream of what lay out there. What it would be like to fly a space ship anywhere I wanted to go."

"What it`s like out there, Luke? Beyond the stars?"

His voice ran the corridors of memory, "Sometimes I would be all alone in the cockpit, a midnight shift piloting some transport on endless runs. I would turn the dash-lights off and stand in the forward window as the ship drifted on-course. And it`s like I`m all alone in the universe, just the thrumming of the engine and the light of stars. Sometimes there is the red haze of a nebula or a bright streak of shooting stars. Some nights we go by planets with rings of every color and it's so beautiful. Some rare times, towards the end of my shift, when we are flying towards the center of a system and I haven`t slept for two days or seen another human besides my crew in a month, and the last of the caffeine is wearing off and I know I have a report to write; all that heavy on mind, flying past a blue or green planet and its all dark and the universe is so heavy and all I want to do is close my eyes and the sun comes around the rim of the planet, like a flash of some rare gem. It grows from a dim point into a spreading blanket across the planet`s surface. The dark cockpit lights up and the metal shines. Those are good days."

His voice trails off into the open air. Jenny can almost imagine the sunrise in space and it sounds so lovely. She smiles at the image in her mind. She looks over at him and her smile fades. "What about the bad days?"

He sighed and put a hand over hers and said "there were those indeed."

She looked at his hand as he slowly closed his fingers over hers. She turned her hand over so they were palm to palm. They didn`t speak or look at each other but Luke shifted back and Jenny leaned into him so that Luke could wrap his arms around her waist. Her hair smelled faintly of some flower. He asked her what it was.

"A white flower called Dianna`s Tears."

After a silence she spoke again "I don`t mind listening if you want."

"About what?" asked Luke, whispering next to her ear.

"About those bad days. If it`s not too painful."

Jenny felt a tremble run through Luke`s body. But then he was still again and when he spoke the words tumbled out like a waterfall.

* * *

Ben was back the next morning and he had a cut over his eyebrow that looked painful. Jenny ran out of the manor when he arrived and fussed over him more than usual.

She hung on his shoulders and said "let`s go on a picnic today! You, your brother, David and I. C`mon!"

Ben wearily dusted his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, "I can`t Jen. I need to get the crop ready for pulping. You know that."

"Ben, please, just for a few hours?" Her voice was pleading.

"No! If my brother wants to do nothing but lay about go with him and have fun." he said firmly brushing her off and storming inside the house. She stared forlornly after him.

But the day was bright and clear and the wind was pleasant. The three of them took the motorcycle and side car to the west where the plateau tilted sharply up and ended at an abrupt escarpment. They laid a blanket near the edge and snacked on meats and cheese. David ran off to play by himself and the two were left to talk.

"Thank you for last night," said Luke.

"It was nothing," said Jenny shyly. "But will you serve again, after what you`ve told me?"

"I don`t know. It`s the only thing I know how to do, the only thing I`m good at. Maybe. I don`t know." And he shrugged his shoulders, dismissing it. "But you are truly a good woman for listening last night." He looked into her eyes; a little too deeply. He reached a hand up to her cheek; a little too close. She jerked back suddenly and said, "I can`t Luke, I-" and stood.

Luke opened his mouth to say something but she turned and walked quickly away along the edge of the cliff. There was a large tree that grew out over the edge and she climbed that, sitting on a branch staring out over miles and miles of land that stretched below.

Luke sighed and stood. He looked around for David who was a small dot in the distance, jumping around after floating butterflies. "David!" he yelled. The boy looked up and waved back but continued to play. Luke strode to the edge and let his toes hang over the crumbling dirt. A little thing, he thought, to just lean forward. It would all be so simple. The wind would be in his ears and for a brief moment he would be flying. Just a little bit forward.

He heard Jenny scream just as he was tilting forward. He jerked back and looked towards the tree. Jenny had slipped and was hanging by one hand from a branch that was slowly breaking. Afterward Luke couldn`t explain it but he was suddenly there by the tree so fast that he didn`t remember moving the distance in-between. But the branch broke and Jenny dropped.

Luke caught her wrist and was dragged down to the earth on his chest by her weight and skidded to the very edge. He hooked a foot around an exposed root and hauled her back up. They lay together in the yellow grass at the base of the tree, panting and mute. Jenny closed her eyes and held on to Luke. After a time she looked up into his eyes.

"Are you ok?" Luke asked?

Her eyes focused and she nodded. "I saw you lean over the edge and I thought you were going to jump. I tried to say something and slipped. Thank you!" and she hugged him tight.

She looked up into his eyes again, disbelieving. "You were going to jump?"

"I might`ve," he admitted, "but you saved me as well."

Things might have been different that day. Words could have flowed between them and maybe a realization of what was happening would have come. Either one had but to say no and history would have been changed. But as it is with the greatest and most tragic of stories the universe hinged on a kiss.

So they kissed; their lips like two soft petals blown together in the wind. His hand became buried in her hair and hers in the folds of his shirt. There was a longing and a need in their movements and for them, then, there no later, no tomorrow, no future, just now. And overhead the leaves of the tree blew back and forth.

But there is always a later and they stood hand in hand and made their way back to the blanket. Things were different now and they knew it. But still the moment was there and so they didn`t speak of it. Jenny called for David, and together they all headed back home.

* * *

Dinner was early that afternoon and everybody was silent around the dinner table. Except Luke`s father who told a few funny stories about his wife. Luke and Jenny shared a few glimpses across the table, a fact that was not missed by Ben. David was silent as usual and after dinner he hung by his father`s side as they went out for a walk.

The sun still hung in the sky a few hours from the horizon when Duncan pulled Luke into his workshop.

"I want you to take my ship, Luke. It works like a beaut, it does. Take it and go travel for a while."

Luke smiled wide. "Duncan, wow! I`d love to take it for a test ride. I`ll do it tomorrow, I promise."

Duncan grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close. "No Luke! Today, tonight. Leave and stay away for awhile. Let things cool off."

"Cool off? What are you talking about?"

Duncan slapped Luke for the first time since he was a young boy and got in a fight. "Dammit boy! I see what`s going on. That`s your brother`s wife. You`re playing a dangerous game!" Duncan handed him a backpack and stalked over to the ship to pull open the hatch. "Please, just for a time."

But Luke could not go and he was a bit hurt at the slap. So he lied to his old friend, "I play no games. We`re just old friends, you know this. C`mon let's talk of different things." And he put an arm around his family`s servant and steered him out of the room with the pack still on his shoulders.

They came into the wide foyer and Ben was there standing against the wall. There was look of malice and hatred on his face. When he saw his brother he pushed off the wall, walked over to him and slugged him hard on the jaw. Luke was knocked off his feet and the pack flew off onto the floor.

"You bastard!" he cried and there was everything of the pain of betrayal in his voice.

Duncan tried to lay a hand on Ben`s chest but he pushed the old man off. Duncan ran out of the room for help.

Luke straightened from the blow and yelled "What was that for!"

"You know damn well what that was for, my dear brother! My own wife! You come back and take even my own wife?" His face was now twisted in agony and he ran over to the mantle where two crossed swords hung. He took one down and advanced on Luke, "I`m going to kill you for that!"

"Ben! She chose. I didn`t force her. She chose!" Luke backpedaled around the room, trying to get at the other sword.

"Liar!" Ben screamed and took a stab at Luke`s chest. Luke rolled away from the point and came up to grab the other sword from the wall.

"Stop!" came a stentorian voice from the hall. Their father hobbled into the room and laid into both of them, "You`re brothers. Stop this madness! Your mother, my wife, would you ruin her memory?" But Ben pushed him back out of the way and he fell into a chair by the wall.

Their swords clashed together as the sun sank closer to the horizon and it`s rays grew brighter through the stained window. Ben had fenced for a short time with a local group and so he was good and quick. But Luke had fought with the saber when men`s lives stood on the outcome. They made heavy cuts and quick feints. They waded around the room, smashing furniture and laying about with abandon. Ben kept yelling "traitor!" and "betrayer!" and his eyes had gone wide and crazed. But Luke was growing angrier with every metallic ring of the sword.

Had not they loved each other, he thought? Had not she acted on her own will? And if his brother should be mad at anybody it should be at himself for spurning his wife and working so hard. Thus he thought and thus he grew angrier, filling with rage and the beginnings of bloodlust. "What right had Ben to strike him!" he yelled inside his head. He had been half-heartedly fencing with his brother, the ties of blood keeping him from falling into the deadly pattern of killing. But his rage made him righteous in belief and he turned towards the serious business of swordplay.

Duncan returned with Jenny and she shrieked at the both of them. They paid her no heed and locked blades, each with a hand on the other`s fist. They stumbled around trying to win control. Jenny danced around trying to shout into their battle, trying to draw their attention. Luke pressed his face very close to Ben`s and sneered. He suddenly stepped back and pivoted, throwing Ben into the wall below the stained-glass window. The glass shattered, spraying him with blue, red and yellow bits.

Ben struggled up against the wall, yelled and charged Luke, sword outstretched. With experience on his side Luke smiled arrogantly and simply side-stepped. He heard a gasp behind him and a cry of horror from Ben. He turned and it seemed to take an eternity.

Jenny stood behind him with a look of surprise on her face and Ben`s sword stuck into her chest. Blood bloomed around the wound and quickly soaked her white dress. She slumped slowly to the floor.

Ben dropped his sword and cradled her body. Luke stood behind him, the sword hanging limply in his hand.

Jenny died in seconds.

"No, no, no NO!" moaned Ben, his voice rising and falling with grief. His shoulders shook and he rocked back and forth with emotion. Luke bent down over her head and touched her cheek. Ben smacked his hand away, "don`t touch her! Ever!"

He continued in a sad voice coming from a deep well of sudden confession, "Six years. I loved her for six years and you came and took her in three days. Six years and she loved you the whole time, brother. Six years. Oh, Jenny!" He held her to his breast and kissed her forehead.

He let her go, stood and walked over to his sword. "Let`s finish this, Luke." There was no emotion left in his voice.

"Enough Ben, enough!" Luke held a hand out but his brother charged in with sword raised. Luke`s anger had faded with Jenny`s death but it flared up again. It was rage at the tragedy the universe had dumped on him, rage at never being comfortable anywhere or knowing a bit of piece longer than a day. Mad at himself, but unable to see it.

They fought but it was a farce and Luke`s every stroke was sure. There was a flick and blood blossomed on Ben`s cheek. Then a cut on his arm and the hilt became slippery with blood. There was no fear on Ben`s face only desperation.

Luke banged Ben`s sword out of his hand and kicked him hard in the chest. He stumbled back against the wall, the breath driven from his lungs.

Luke threw down his sword in a final act of control and said "Enough Ben! I don`t want your blood on my hands."

"But it already is," whispered Ben and drew a dagger from behind his back. He charged Luke, tackling him to the floor. Luke threw him to the side but Ben quickly scrambled back towards him.

In equal desperation Luke`s hand found the leather-wrapped metal tube of Duncan`s invention, lying thrown from his pack. He held it in both hands as he came up on a knee. His brother ran at him, yelling. Luke didn`t know what to expect from the tube, only that Duncan designed it so something must happen.

He pushed a switch near the top and as Ben drove the dagger down towards Luke a beam of purple lanced out from the tube to pierce Ben`s heart.

It extended for a blink of an eye and then was gone but it was enough. There was a clean hole through his chest.

Ben collapsed on the floor and lay still. Luke went to his knees by his brother`s body and put his head on the unmoving chest. He let out a scream that filled the manor and rang out across the grass fields. He looked up at the ceiling and screamed again and there are no words for that.

When he came back to himself David was standing in the doorway of the foyer looking at the scene. While still kneeling Luke stretched a hand out to David. The sun chose that moment to blaze with a fury and it`s rays came through the broken stained-glass window throwing colors all over the room. A single shaft of blue light fell upon Luke`s upturned hand as sorrow flooded his being. A shard of red reflected its color onto the face of the boy and it was now twisted in hatred. A pure emotion of what would be vengeance in an older man flashed through the boy`s eyes.

Duncan walked into the scene of blue and red flooded tragedy. "Luke!" he yelled. He pulled him up by the shoulders and pushed him from the room. "You stupid, fool boy! You`ve got to go NOW!" He pulled him towards the outside where the ship sat trailing smoke from its exhaust. He handed him the brown backpack and shoved him towards the ship. "Dammit, Luke! Go! Never come back! Run and find some world to hide!" The old man shoved him one last time towards the ship, turned back towards the house and ran inside hiding his tears.

Luke was numb but understood the ship. He turned for one last look at the manor and the plains and then climbed into the cockpit. He started it and lifted off, making one pass over the house and then climbing into the sky. The atmosphere faded into blackness as the stars came closer. He reached space and cut the engines.

Luke walked back to the small cabin and sat on the bunk with his head in his hands. "What did I do!" he moaned. But he couldn`t think about it now and he paced back and forth. He got back into the captain`s seat and powered up the engines. "I gotta go somewhere, but where," He thought? "Somewhere where they don`t know me and I can hide." It was then that he noticed the rudely-installed button on the console. "I don`t care" he thought before he slammed his fist down on the button. There was a loud whine from the engine as it powered up and then stopped and died. "Go!" he yelled and kicked the console.

There was another whine and suddenly the stars were white lines and he was gone.


End file.
